


A Game of You

by ManOfChocolate



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And who would you like to be, Bad Ending, Ensemble Cast, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Frisk Needs A Hug, Gen, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Identity Issues, OR IS IT, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Drama, Secrets, The Absolute God of Hyperdeath, Things are worse than they seem, Trust Issues, Who are you really, stay determined
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:32:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9359564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManOfChocolate/pseuds/ManOfChocolate
Summary: Despite everything, it's still you.Frisk lost the final battle. The God of Hyperdeath was an opponent they weren't ready to face. Unprepared against a power beyond measure, he seized control of their fate. Now, as time and space become meaningless, Frisk must navigate a perilous journey through hearts and minds, where each step threatens to rend their very being asunder.With a lot of determination and a little luck, their reflection in the mirror will still be familiar by the end.





	

**But it refused.**

A pained gasp escaped Frisk's throat. The murky darkness before their eyes took but a few moments to solidify into vague, somewhat identifiable shapes. The swirling colors were confusing and distracting, but soon formed into what they could only describe as giant wings. As their soul's red glow further illuminated the entity before them, the memories came rushing back.

"You just don't know when to give up, do you?"

Frisk nearly collapsed on the spot, ears ringing in pain. His voice was booming, even though there was nothing to provide an echo. They weren't even sure if he did speak, or if he was merely projecting his thoughts right into their mind. Judging by the impact, the delivery method mattered precious little. They struggled, trying to move, run, jump or hide, but all manner of control was either taken or never existed in the first place. The face looming over them was motionless, staring down at the human with a very amused and yet infinitely cold grin. To him, this entire fight was hardly more than humoring Frisk with the illusion of chance.

"You're only making it worse, you know."

Asriel Dreemurr, self-proclaimed Absolute God of Hyperdeath, raised his hands high, never breaking eye contact with the human before him. A glow formed in both of his inhumanly large paws, dozens of strange glowy projectiles flooding forth from it. They briefly reminded Frisk of shooting stars, but there was little mistake to their purpose. These things carried the same glow Asriel's wings did, except shaped into strange, bullet-like miasma. They curved around the emptiness and hurled towards Frisk's soul.

The child struggled, but could not move so much as an inch. Instead, they relied on the power they discovered shortly after falling down and took control of their soul. Asriel's magical barrage swept down without mercy, leaving Frisk with barely inches to navigate through. The red glow stood out from within the rainbow hail, bravely speeding through the relentless assault. A skill honed through one battle after another, Frisk avoided his attack as much as they could. 

A stray shot proved to be lucky, however, and struck their soul. The magical strike sheared through Frisk's soul like a knife, sending a sharp wave of pain through the child's body. As the attack subsided, the soul stopped moving as well. It was still burning red, though its glow diminished somewhat by the damage it sustained. Their breath came as ragged gasps once again, hardly audible under Asriel's hearty laughter.

"See what I mean?" he said, face twisted into an obscenely large grin. "Sooner or later, you'll make another mistake. Then I'll hit you and then you die. Kind of a boring script, don't you think?"

The glow high above signaled another round, even though Frisk hardly had time to recoup, much less prepare. The miasma waited for no human though and rained down once again, filling their vision with colors all across the spectrum. Never before has Frisk feared the sight of a rainbow so much. Survival instinct won out and their soul was on the move again, but much too late for proper evasion. A bullet nicked it by the side, leaving it wide open for a onslaught, before Frisk could so much as shake off the shock. Asriel's attack pierced their soul several times in a mere heartbeat, until the rapidly weakening glow finally couldn't take it and split apart.

**But it refused.**

Another gasp, followed by another rush of information to all senses. There was a dull pain banging at the back of Frisk's head, as their vision centered on the God of Hyperdeath once again. They still couldn't move, whatever force was holding them remained in place even through repeated dances with death; awful mementos just how little control they truly had.

"I can do this all day, you know." he chuckled. "With every death, you lose more of yourself. Your friends forget another detail about you. Your grasp on reality grows weaker. Your very existence itself slips right through your fingers."

Frisk winced, his voice only making the booming headache worse. Asriel's words were followed by an eerily familiar glow growing in his palms. They recognized it just as the bullets rained once again, taking control of their soul a mere second too late. The projectiles tore right through the child's very being with hardly an effort. The only thing louder than the damaged soul shattering was their painful cry.

**But it refused.**

"Your determination will do you no good. Little by little, you will lose everything."

Frisk has heard this voice before. They knew this voice from somewhere, from just a little while ago and yet even with eyes closed, cold shivers ran down their spine. Once they dare to look, they could only watch as every color in the world turned against them.

**But it refused.**

"You're stubborn, but for nothing." he said, bemused certainty very clear in his voice. "Every time you come back, I'll be here waiting. You can't beat me. Just give up and accept that I've won."

Any attempt at an answer was caught in Frisk throat, broken by a mixture of pained gasps and barely contained sobs. There was a way, there had to be a way out of this, but no matter how they tried, they could barely last through a single wave of Asriel's attacks, much less accomplish anything meaningful. Frisk shrieked as their soul was shattered once more, consciousness drifting to only a momentary respite.

**But it refused.**

_Is this what you want?_

The first wave of bullets dispersed, leaving Frisk barely at the edge of life. The glow of their soul was a mess of erratic half-pulses, trembling before the god of this world.

"Say it. Say that I win and I'll make it stop. I'll make it better." he said. There was something in his eyes, something very distant, that Frisk couldn't identify. It was only there for a moment though, quickly replaced by the same amusement as before. "Or we can just keep doing this forever. That's also fine by me. I've got all the time in the world."

Frisk only had a couple more seconds, before the miasma rent their soul apart.

**But it refused.**

_Just let go._

Asriel's laughter crawled in Frisk's ears even as their soul was pelted to extinction.

**But it refused.**

_Let go._

Red flickered among the swirl of colors, before withering into nothingness.

**But it refused.**

A child was sobbing in the dark, all alone against the world. There was no light, no mercy to be found.

**But it--**

_I'll make it better. I promise._

**...**

**It refused no longer.**

* * *

Awakening was like the prick of a needle; a sharp feeling that reactivated all of their senses. They were fully aware in less than a second, though the sudden overload of information was startling. Everything was different than just moments before, and the change alone had come as a complete shock. As the mind straightened itself out, their new surroundings became more and more pronounced. 

All sorts of shapes and colors morphed into view, along with something else: a figure sitting next to the them. 

The mere realization immediately made their hurt jump up and then sink as low as possible. The thing was large, purple and white in color, yet immersed in shadows. A corona of orange light surrounded it, granting an almost majestic quality. And yet, as soon as they even vaguely managed to discern the eyes, the horns, the ears and the fur, that scream that had been building in the pit of their stomach found blockage by the throat, squeezed tight by fear. They launched back, only to be caught in a tight lock of strong arms.

"Calm down, my child. Everything is alright, I am here. You are safe."

It was the voice, more than anything else.

The voice that brought reality back to where it belonged.

Their eyes fluttered open again, shut tight right after they caught sight of the being. There was no mistaking, this was not the creature who had haunted them in whatever hellish dreamscape they've escaped from. The person before them was one of the first they've encountered and one who they've been wanting to see again. Without even much of a thought, they raised their arms and grabbed on, desperately trying to wrap them around a body larger than their could hope to encircle. The name was at the tip of their tongue, just waiting for that tiny bit of encouragement, but when they opened their mouth a different word rolled forward. 

A much warmer one, just like she was.

Toriel smiled and reached up to their nape, brushing a couple of errant brown locks along the way. While their heart was still beating rapidly, the trembling soon came to a halt, as her radiant heat scorched the icy grip of fear. The child sighed deeply, resting in her embrace. They didn't really have a sense of time to build up on, so anywhere between hours to weeks could have passed, since the last time they had the chance to do this.

"Feeling better now?" she asked, lightly scratching the back of their head.

"A little." they said, the very beginning of a smile blooming on their face.

"You poor dear." she cooed, her tone alone eliciting a tiny giggle. "I knew I should have at least prepared a nightlight for you."

A brief glance was more than enough to determine where they were exactly. The cozy little bed, fresh sheets, closet and drawers were pretty hard to mistake for any other place. However short time they've spent with Toriel, her hospitality was something they remembered all throughout the long journey. As with all things though, the shadow of a doubt crept into their mind, such as there being slightly more furniture and the walls painted a different color. A shade of red, perhaps. Although it was a little difficult to tell in the light of just whatever shone from behind Toriel, these walls seemed somewhat different and yet still oddly familiar.

"Is everything okay in there?

A very notably deep voice once again tore them from the comfort they just managed to settle into. The doorknob twisted around with a soft click, revealing an also familiar, yet very unexpected figure. Asgore, the King of Monsters was standing in the doorway, his imposing aura greatly diminished by a horribly gaudy sweater he was wearing. The whole sight would have been hilarious, had they not seen him a much different just some time ago. Remembering just when seemed like a fool's errand, but the memories of his heavy trident, blazing fire, and the overflowing sadness in his eyes would have been impossible to dream.

And yet, even from Toriel's tight embrace, they couldn't see any of it. Neither the tempest of his visage, or the weight on his shoulders, pressing down far more than just the pieces of his royal armor.

"They are fine, Gorey." she said, smiling back at him. That alone was an even greater sign that something was amiss. "Just a nightmare, probably from the fever. It has gone down considerably though. Good thing too, you were really starting to worry us.

They tried their best to crack a half-hearted grin to the soft pat on the head. Still, Asgore being here was a very good reason to feel unnerved. As he approached them with a warm smile on his face, they weren't even afraid of him, but of what his presence here suggested. The last time they've seen him was right before Toriel blasted him aside, and the words she greeted him with weren't exactly spoken with a lot of kindness. Of course, they wanted to see them forgo fighting each other, but even they knew it couldn't have happened from one moment to the next.

Something just wasn't right about this. Something was missing. A name buzzed loudly in their head, but just barely out of reach. A name they didn't want to remember, didn't want to think of, yet must have held the key to what was going on.

"You're awake! Mom, they're awake! Oh gosh, I was so worried!"

The child flinched to the soft, child-like voice. It was awfully familiar, but unlike Asgore's voice, this one stirred a much thicker ocean of emotions within them; one of fear and anxiety, coupled with sobering realization. Quickly glancing in its direction, the breath was caught in their throat as the face immediately clicked. The tiny frame, familiar features and regulation sweater for children were far too easy to recall. They've only see this form for a merely minute and yet there was no mistaking, no possible way they could have forgotten him:

Asriel. Flowey. Asriel Dreemurr. The Absolute God of Hyperdeath.

Their nightmare in the flesh.

They swallowed, a wave of nausea clashing with a fast-growing sense of vertigo. Toriel picked up on the sudden relapse and loosened her grip. She reached up and touched their forehead, trying to gauge their temperature. The suddenly growing rate of breathing also left her concerned, even without knowing the precise cause.

"I think it would be for the best, if you slept just a little while longer." she said, gently easing them back on the bed, before they could utter a single word of protest. "Your fever is mostly gone, but we better not take any chances."

A weak nod followed her suggestion. The world continued spinning, despite the way they tried to cling at least to her voice. And yet every waking moment just hurtled them further and further from what they thought real until now. Asriel was here, in his real form no less. Asgore and Toriel were together and everything seemed fine, even though that was impossible. It couldn't have been possible, not after everything they've seen and heard. Something was very wrong.

"This goes for you two, as well!" Toriel said, flicking her hands in the direction of the door. "Shoo, shoo!! They are through the worst, but they still need a lot of rest!"

"Can't I stay with them?" Asriel pleaded, giving his mother those well-refined puppydog-eyes. This cutesy behavior was a far cry from what they remembered of him.

Unfortunately, she was left completely unfazed by the clever tactic. "No, Asriel. Maybe once they have improved a little more, but for now, we should let them sleep."

"Okay, Mom." he sighed. Asgore put a hand over his son's shoulder, leading him out of the room. They both knew that fighting Toriel's authority on this was a futile effort.

They could have sworn whatever fever Toriel mentioned really has finally found them, as within the minute they were sweating all over the pillows. Whether it was body heat, or fear and worry, they couldn't rightfully tell. Instead, they just closed their eyes and breathed deeply, merely listening to the sounds of a flame bursting to life, followed by the monster's footsteps as she approached the door.

"I will be back soon to check up on you. Please, try to sleep as much as you can, and I will make some hot soup in the meantime." she said, pulling the door halfway in before adding, "I promise I will not add any snails to it, unless you ask me to."

Her words once more managed to quell the waves of worry just a tiny bit. They opened an eye and glanced towards the door, catching sight of her warm smile. The rest of the room remained partially lit, thanks to whatever conjured nightlight she had left them. They desperately needed something to chase the nightmares away. As Toriel waved at them, so too did they raise a hand to meekly return the gesture, only for their eyes to once again lost focus from Toriel and instead be nailed to one particular spot. This time, it was their sleeve.

Green. The sleeve and by extension the whole sweater, was green.

"Sweet dreams, Chara."

Never before had a door closing shut sound so deafening.

**Author's Note:**

> And now for something completely different! As things have been changing at my work again, so has my schedule for things, finally giving me the chance to work on this particular idea. Aside from horror shorts, I think this is the first actual possibly long-form darkfic idea I've had. It's very much inspired by a particular Twilight Zone episode, so if you can guess which one, you may be able to guess some of the direction at least. Then again, the fun always comes when you can throw a few curveballs, right?
> 
> A quick and special thank you to all the great and creative people I know from Discord, as well as 4chan's enduring /utg/ thread, and its determined anons.
> 
> Feel free to visit me on my tumblr, http://milkasingularity.tumblr.com/! Whether it's a comment, criticism, a cheap knife set, or the name of your favorite chocolate brand, I'm very much open to discussion!
> 
> Take care, dear readers!


End file.
